


Captive

by Bassgoddess



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:29:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27638905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bassgoddess/pseuds/Bassgoddess
Summary: Hermione makes a request of her captor, Scabior.AU takes place after the trio is captured by Death Eaters in HP DH 1.  Hermione is of age.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Scabior, Hermione Granger/Scabior
Comments: 11
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

Scabior pushed the girl ahead of him towards the flap of his tent, shoving her roughly so she stumbled and fell to the dirty forest earth.

He pushed past her brusquely and reached for the tent flap, holding it open for her as he regarded her on the ground with no compassion.“After you, beautiful.”

It was perhaps his emotion, or lack thereof that frightened her the most.Hermione stood on shaky legs and moved to tip her head back, nose in the air, but thought the better of it, and gingerly walked inside the tent, dejected.It was over.He had won.Harry and Ron were on their way to the Dark Lord and she was here with this man and his band of miscreants.

There was a large bed towards the back and a small table to the immediate right against one of the tent walls.A kitchen area with dishes strewn about was to the front left of the tent. 

His boot made a sound as he entered behind her, and she tensed as she felt him close behind, following.Her heart began to speed well past it’s acceptable limits.

As she turned around, she saw him slowly, deliberately remove his jacket and throw it to the floor as he began to back her into the small table, eyeing her all the while like a piece of meat.His mouth was set in a hard line and his eyes offered no mercy.She shuddered involuntarily.She knew instinctively he was a dangerous man, one she would have to exercise caution with.He was a brute, yes, yet he moved with a quiet menace that she found more unsettling than if he had been outwardly violent.She knew once he snapped, that would be the end.

Hermione’s back met with the table and she let out a small squeak of surprise as she put her hands up in front of her to deter him.Her actions didn’t stop his body from slowly advancing upon her much smaller form.There was nothing but cold in his eyes.

“Wait….wait…please,” she started.He stilled for a moment, just a meter away, and tilted his head, almost imperceptibly to the side as if allowing her an unspoken permission to speak.She took a deep breath, lowered her eyes away from his and continued.

“I know-I understand that I am your captive, and that you mean to…to-,” her voice trailed off as she swallowed a lump in her throat.His eyes watched the motion of her throat and he slowly took a deep breath, inhaling her scent from where he stood.

“…to… _have_ me.In _that_ way.I understand, and I won’t fight you.I will ask one concession though…” she raised her eyes to his, shocked he hadn’t interrupted her.She quickly cast her eyes downwards again and resumed.

“I am exhausted.I’ve obliviated my parents, my friends are on their way to the Dark Lord….everyone I know or love is…well, is lost to me.As I have never done… _that_ before…I ask this one night to myself to rest.”She took a breath and realized her heart was pounding violently in her rib cage, so much so that it must be visible.She was too afraid to raise her eyes.She could hear the blood rushing through her ears and she had to press her hand against her chest in an effort to still her racing heart.

No response.Thirty seconds, then a minute passed.Hermione raised her eyes to his slowly.They were as unyielding as ever.He didn’t blink as he held her gaze, almost as if challenging her. Then, he turned his body as he kept his eyes trained on hers.He dropped her gaze and began to walk out of the tent.As he approached the entrance, he reached for the flap with his gloved hand and stopped.His back was to her for a long moment in which she didn’t even dare to breathe and then he turned to her.

“If you try anything, I will kill you.Then, I will find your family, and your friends, and I will make each and every one of them suffer.”

She was horrified at the casual way this man described such deeds, but she nodded, signaling that she understood.Hermione swallowed again and her tongue darted out to wet her lip, a motion which his eyes followed with great intensity. 

The heat in his gaze made her realize just how much he wanted to take her.She was terrified of it, of him, of the whole thing.She wanted to crawl out of her own skin.Her body began to tremble as he finally exited the tent. 

The trembling stilled automatically and she suddenly burst into short-lived tears that seemed to stop almost as quickly as they began.Her nerves were so raw and distended from the last few days…weeks…

She felt a wave of dizziness threaten to overtake her as she registered the bed in her periphery and carefully moved towards it.

She didn’t want to lay in the bed of a murderer, but she was so tired.So tired from everything, and so in need of rest.She had to still her mind, turn off her thoughts and take the time she needed for her aching body and soul. 

As she lay upon the pillows, she smelled him.Had this been another situation that scent might have been comforting, but it was too intimate, too wild, too _him_.She turned to the side and curled up, pulling a threadbare blanket up to cover herself.

How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

She pondered this and so many other things as she slowly drifted into a dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two.

_Ron_. Ron was calling for her. First in the distance, then nearby. He was reaching for her, but she did not understand nor could she make out the strange words he was emitting. Ron stretched his opened hand even closer to her and Hermione tried to grasp it when she heard other voices. Distant voices. Voices that grew in intensity. A sharp jolt registered to her in her dream and then she was awake. Men, carrying something, had bumped into the corner of the bed. The man with red hair yelled at her.

“Get up!,” he said gruffly.

Hermione scrambled out of the Snatcher’s bed as she saw what they were carrying. Scabior. She moved far towards the back wall as Greyback, the man-wolf and the red-headed man maneuvered the mangled body of the Snatcher she had just so bravely stood against. A large gash went from his right to left side across his lower chest. He was carefully dropped down onto the bed as a third man, the one who wore a black makeup mask over his eyes approached. Scabior made no noise. He was unconscious.

“Oi, I ‘fink ‘es done for!”

“Get the coat!”

Hermione took a step forward as the men worked feverishly. A fourth, and fifth Snatcher entered Scabior’s tent, all of them talking so quickly amongst themselves it was hard to make out much. They stripped him of his jacket and shirt and it was then that Hermione saw the gash beneath the lean muscle of his abdomen. The wound was so deep that she could see the white of his lower rib. Blood flowed steadily from it.

She stole a quick indrawn breath and then chided herself.

‘ _Who cares? Nothing for you to worry about. Not this murderer_.’

The voices near the bed intensified.

“Get some blankets!”

“Astor, your wand!”

“Vulnera Sanentur!”

Hermione’s eyes glazed over as the blood continued to drip steadily from the man’s torso.

“Give it a minute!”

“He’s not getting any better!”

She could make out words here and there but it seemed like she was underwater. Moving slowly, and barely registering what was happening. Again, the voice at the back of her head.

‘ _Let him die. He is evil_.’

And then….

‘ _Hermione would you ever truly be able to live with yourself if you let this happen? You are better than he is. You are not one of them. You give mercy for none_.’

She took another tentative step towards the men huddled around the bed.

The red-haired man turned suddenly to her carrying blood-filled sheets.

“You! Out of the way, stupid girl.”

Hermione’s eyes darkened as she found her anger at the entire situation come suddenly from out of nowhere.

“You’re the stupid one!”

The men stilled and turned to look at her. She was for a moment afraid, but refused to show it.

“This man needs another round of Vulnera Sanentur, possibly Episkey, a shock spell and essence of dittany, which I have in my bag…My bag, which was unceremoniously stripped from me.”

Greyback turned to the man with the painted mask and spoke gruffly.

“Get her the bag.”

He turned back to Scabior, still lying unconscious in the bed.

“Vulnera Sanentur…”

The skin was trying to knit itself back together but unable to do so. It was then that Scabior awoke with a jolt, screaming.

“You’re hurting him!,” Hermione screamed, nearing the edge of the bed.

Greyback turned suddenly on her, eyes blazing. It made her take a few steps back.

“I’m doing what you suggested.”

“Stupefy!,” the red-haired man let out and then sighed in relief as Scabior slumped again to the bed.

“Episkey!”

Just then the man with the makeup ran back into the tent carrying Hermione’s bag and handed it to her.

“Here you go, girlie. Do whatever it takes.”

Hermione reached into the bag and it took her a few moments to extract the dittany. She pushed the red-haired man aside and began to shake the small bottle over Scabior’s broken and bloody skin. The spells had already begun healing him and the dittany was the finishing touch. She saw Scabior’s body relax further into the bed and knew that his pain must be abating.

“You’ll need to bandage him, of course,” she said, straight into the face of Greyback. She had to turn away immediately after because the shock of standing toe to toe with the werewolf had unnerved her. This whole experience had unnerved her. She moved quickly and quietly to the back of the tent and sat on the floor near the edge of the rug.

Bandages appeared and magically wrapped themselves around the Snatcher’s midsection as he re-settled back amongst the pillows of the bed.

Satisfied Scabior was safe for the moment, the werewolf turned towards Hermione’s small form. He took menacing steps toward her until he stood in front of her.

“I’m sure he had other plans for you. But now, you will make sure he lives,” he crouched down to her level, his voice no more than a whisper. “Because if he dies, I’ll kill you myself. Understood?”

Hermione raised her head to look him dead in his eyes, refusing to back down or show weakness.

“Yes. But I’ll need to keep my bag.”

Greyback seemed to consider this for a moment.

“No. But I’ll leave you the dittany.”

“Fine.”

Greyback stood and walked back over to the bed. He looked over at the redheaded man and they exchanged a knowing look before the redheaded man turned and leisurely walked towards her.

“What’s for dinner then, little miss?”

Hermione felt her mouth almost drop. Dinner? After _this_?

He nudged her with the toe of his boot. She moved away, swatting at his foot.

“Because if you aren’t cooking….and you aren’t cleaning…and you aren’t keepin’ an eye on Scabior, then we’ll have to find another use for you.”

Hermione took a quick indrawn breath, the implication obvious.

“I…I can make a stew.”

He smiled at her, a cold half-smile.

“That’s what I thought you’d say. I’ll have everything brought into the kitchen here.”

Another man, another Snatcher, with long, dark hair moved from the bed towards them.

“I’m awful hungry. Know wha’ I mean, princess?”

Hermione gritted her teeth and swallowed the revulsion she felt.

“Yes. I understand.”

“Good, I thought you might.” The dark-haired man stood and nodded at the redhead and then turned on his heel and walked back over to Scabior. The redheaded man reached out and grabbed a tendril of her hair, much like Scabior had done in the forest.

“Don’t make us wait too long, sweet’eart.”

Hermione shook her head and the simple action pulled the lock of her hair out of his grasp. She cleared her throat and spoke.

“Please bring whatever is available here and I’ll have something prepared for you within the hour.”

The red-haired man smiled at her.

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea for a ficlet and am unsure if I want to continue. Please let me know if you would rather see it fleshed out than as a one-shot!


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